As Rama, accompanied by Lakshmana and the revered sage Viśvāmitra, journeyed through the forest, his curiosity was piqued by the sight of a sacred hermitage. Turning to the sage, he asked, “Whose is this holy hermitage, O revered one? Who resides here? We are eager to know, for our curiosity is indeed great.” Hearing these words, the foremost among sages, Viśvāmitra, smiled gently and replied, “Listen, Rama, and I shall tell you to whom this ancient hermitage once belonged. Long ago, the god of love, Kāma—so known among the wise—beheld Lord Śiva here, engaged in deep and steadfast penance. At that time, the Lord of the gods, having just wed, was passing through with the hosts of the Maruts. Seized by desire, Kāma dared to disturb Śiva’s meditation. Angered by this intrusion, the great-souled Lord rebuked him. “O descendant of Raghu, with a single glance, Rudra shattered all the limbs of Kāma, reducing his body to nothing. Consumed by the wrath of the Lord of gods, Kāma was thus rendered bodiless. From that moment, O Rāghava, he has been known as Anaṅga, the bodiless one, and the very spot where his body fell is called Aṅgaviṣaya, the blessed region. “This, Rama, is the sacred hermitage of Kāma. These are his ancient disciples, devoted to righteousness and free from all sin. Let us spend the night here, O Rāma of auspicious vision, between these two holy rivers; tomorrow, we shall cross to the other side. Let us, with pure minds, approach this sacred place; our stay here will be most excellent, and we shall pass the night in comfort.” Following the sage’s words, they bathed, performed their recitations, and offered oblations. As they conversed, the ascetics of the hermitage, their eyes bright from years of austerity, gazed upon the travelers. Recognizing Viśvāmitra and the princes, the sages were filled with supreme joy. They approached with delight, offering water for washing feet and for welcome, and extended all hospitality to the son of Kuśika. Thereafter, they performed the rites of hospitality for Rama and Lakshmana as well, honoring them and delighting the princes with pleasant stories. As evening approached, the focused sages performed the evening prayers, joined by the resident ascetics and those of virtuous vows. There, in Kāma’s hermitage, they dwelt most happily, and the righteous sage Viśvāmitra entertained the princes with delightful tales. With the coming of dawn, when the sky was clear, Rama and Lakshmana, destroyers of foes, completed their morning rites and approached the riverbank with Viśvāmitra leading the way. The great-souled sages, steadfast in their vows, had prepared a fine boat and spoke to Viśvāmitra, “Please board the boat, with the princes at the forefront; travel safely, and let there be no delay.” Viśvāmitra agreed, honored the sages, and, together with Rama and Lakshmana, crossed the river that flows to the ocean. As they reached the middle of the stream, they heard a sound intensified by the agitation of the waters. Desiring to know its source, Rama asked the eminent sage, “What is this tumultuous noise of the water breaking apart?” Viśvāmitra explained, “On Mount Kailasa, O Rama, a supreme lake was created by the mind of Brahma. This lake, called Mānasa, gave birth to the sacred river Sarayu, which flows towards Ayodhya. The incomparable sound you hear is the voice of Sarayu, who, born from the disturbance of the waters, now joins the Jahnavi. Offer your respectful salutations, Rama.” Both Rama and Lakshmana, exceedingly righteous, bowed in reverence. Having reached the southern bank, they proceeded swiftly. Soon they came upon a forest of terrifying appearance, filled with the incessant chirping of crickets. Rama, unvanquished descendant of Ikshvaku, questioned the sage, “O revered one, this forest is formidable, filled with fearsome beasts and birds whose cries are harsh and dreadful. It is adorned with lions, tigers, boars, elephants, and many kinds of trees—dhava, ashvakarna, kakubha, bilva, tinduka, patala, and jujube. Why is this forest so dreadful?” The great sage Viśvāmitra, possessed of immense energy, replied, “Listen, child of Kakutstha, to the reason for this dreadful forest. Once, two prosperous regions existed here, known as Malada and Karusha, created by the gods. Long ago, after Indra slew Vritra, he was overwhelmed by impurity—hunger and the taint of Brahma-hatya entered the thousand-eyed one. The gods and ascetic sages bathed him with vessels, cleansing him of impurity, which they deposited here upon the earth, along with Karusha. “Freed from impurity, Indra was restored to his former glory. Pleased, he bestowed a boon upon this land: these two regions, Malada and Karusha, would become renowned throughout the world. The gods praised them, saying, ‘Well done, well done, O lord of the heavens!’ Thus, the Maladas and Karushas, bearing Indra’s impurity, became joyful and rich in wealth and grain. Yet, after some time, they were troubled by a yakshini of changing form…” Thus, the sage continued, guiding Rama and Lakshmana deeper into the mysteries and stories of the land they traversed.